The Tale of Taratiel
by Sarek of Vulcan
Summary: A new spin on an old story. At the moment, it's just SoA in story form, but eventually...


A/N: OK, I've been wanting to do this for a while now

A/N: OK, I've been wanting to do this for a while now. At first, it's just my story interpretation of Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn, but bear with me because there will be some original stuff, and after the Amn storyline I'm going to ignore ToB and take it in a whole new direction. Rated M for language and future sexual content; technically incest, but I don't think that counts when your father is a god. No likey, no ready. Also, I'm not going to linger on the battles, because that's more picture work than writing.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate (waah!) and am making no profit from this story. Please don't sue me! I've got my whole life ahead of me! I have unborn kids to think of!

The Tale of Taratiel

Chapter 1: Escaping: Part One

The first thing I realized as my eyes opened was that my head felt as though a troll was building a house in there. I groaned, rolled over, and sat up. Or tried to, anyway. That's when I realized I was in a cage, low-roofed enough that I hit my head before getting halfway up. Before I could take stock of my surroundings, a door opened, and in walked a man.

What I remember most about him was that his eyes never stopped moving: up, down, side to side, as if he was afraid that anywhere he didn't look would be an enemy. Upon seeing that I was awake, he uttered, "Ah, the child of Bhaal has awoken."

"How the hell do you know what I am? Who are you? Why are you doing this?" I cried. I mean, it wasn't really a secret that I was a Bhaalspawn in Baldur's Gate and Candlekeep, but last I remembered, we'd been traveling in Amn, and we'd tried not to broadcast it. A lot of people fear Bhaalspawn. With reason, if most of them are like Sarevok.

Oh, "we" is me, my best friend Imoen, the ranger Minsc, his witch Dynaheir, my… well, I guess you'd call her an "aunt", Jaheira, and her husband Khalid. Just thought I'd mention that.

Ignoring my questions, he muttered to himself, "It is time for more… experiments." He made motions in the air, weaving a spell. But not any spell I recognized, and with two mages and a druid in the party, I'd seen quite a few.

Whatever he did, it worked. I was hit with a wave of pain so intense, I actually blacked out for a minute or so. Dimly, I heard the mage say, "Interesting… you have much untapped power." He repeated the motions, but this time, the pain was not so intense. I managed to keep my head. The third time, there wasn't even any pain, just a nagging itch like a mosquito bite. The mage seemed impressed. "Do you even realize your potential?"

He began his spellwork again, but was interrupted by a golem, which ran through the same door he'd entered by and stood before him, clay knuckles dragging the ground. "More intruders have entered the complex, master," it rasped.

The mage, irritated, hissed, "They act sooner than we had anticipated. No matter, they will only prove a slight delay." He motioned at me, then cast a dimension door as blackness began eating at the corners of my vision. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the mage teleporting away.

_Later_

I woke up again. How long it had been, I could only guess, but I didn't think it had been long, since the mage had said, "a slight delay," and I could hear the distant sounds of a still-raging battle.

A man in the uniform of Amn's biggest thieves guild, the Shadow Thieves, ran into the room. "Yer der prishoner? Der Bhaalshpawn?" he asked, in an Amnish accent so thick I could barely understand him. Before I had time to do more than nod, a trap the mage had left went off, immersing the man in a sea of fire. He screamed horribly as he was immolated.

Again, before I could react, a door on the other side of the room opened. "Fuck!" I muttered to myself. "Nothing happens for hours, and then everything happens at once!" But as I prepared to face this new threat, I received a pleasant surprise: it was Imoen!

"Come on, Taratiel, let's get out of here!" She opened my cage, and we embraced, overjoyed at being reunited. However, our bright mood didn't last long. We were still in a stupid dungeon, with no equipment, and no idea which way was out. The only good thing was that we knew where Minsc and Jaheira were: behind us, in their own cages. Imoen picked the lock on Jaheira's cage, and, with a little goading, Minsc pried open the bars of his own, which had been welded shut. In a little room to the north, we found some equipment, though it wasn't nearly as good as what we'd lost, and now all that was left was to find Khalid (according to Minsc, Dynaheir was dead—something to add to our growing list of grievances against the bastard who'd imprisoned us) and get the hell out.

That was easier said than done, however. First, we entered a room that had a little machine which, every few minutes, spit out a little lightning monster. After a while, we figured out that there was a button at the side of the room which, when pressed, turned the machine off. We'd passed the first hurdle.

Which also turned out to be the lowest hurdle, as next, we entered a room full of crystals and strange pools, containing a genie named Aataqah. "Greetings, Taratiel! I've been expecting you!" he cackled, as we entered.

"But I've not been expecting you, friend djinn. What do you want of me?" I replied.

He answered, "Nothing, except your goodwill, and the answer to a question. In return, you are welcome to rest here, in my crystal room, so long as you are within this dungeon."

"A fair trade. Speak your question."

"All right. You and your sibling are captured by a mage and placed in separate cells, unable to communicate. The mage appears and explains his sadistic game: In each cell is a button. Both you and your sibling must decide whether to press the button. If you do, and she does not, you die but she is free. If she does, and you do not, she dies and you go free. If both or neither of you press the button, you both die. Do you press the button or not, Taratiel?"

I thought it over. I did not want to die, but to allow a woman, or a man, for that matter, to die on my behalf would be the depth of cowardice, and force me into a life not worth living. "I press the button."

He smiled. "I would have thought far less of you had you answered otherwise. But nobility has consequences just as evil does. Deal with this, noble one!" he cried, and made a motion in the air. This accomplished two things. First, the four of us felt rejuvenated, our wounds from the lightning-monster battle closing before our eyes. Second, an Ogre Mage appeared and advanced on us, sword raised. However, in our healed state, he was no match for us and soon his corpse rolled on the ground.

Aataqah applauded. "Good! It seems you are able to deal with the results of your actions. Seek out Rielev; he has been awaiting the aid of one such as you. And, as I said, you are welcome here in the meantime. Good luck, Taratiel!" he announced, and vanished. We elected to take advantage of his offer, and slept.

_Later_

After waking, we decided to go in search of the "Rielev" person that Aataqah had mentioned. We went down the western corridor, fighting goblins on the way, into a labyrinth of passages. After some discussion, we walked southwards, into a room of glass tubes.

Imoen gasped. "I've been here before… we both have!" she cried. "There are things in these tanks… things that were once alive, once human. He… he kept them… for research… but now he's forgotten them, because of us. They're alive… but is this truly living? Taratiel, who is this man, that he's willing to do… such cruel things… to living, sapient beings?"

I held her, comforting her, as we had held each other many times. But suddenly, something changed. I became aware of her soft breasts pressed against me, which was not something that usually happened with Imoen; I thought of her as a sister, not a lover. But now, as we held each other, I felt lust, for the first time… and something deeper. Reluctantly, I released her, and as we looked into each others' eyes, I knew that she, too, had felt as I did. However, we both knew there wasn't time for this now. We had to keep looking for Rielev, and eventually, the way out.

We moved north, out of the glass tube room, into a room containing a golem. As we entered, it creaked to life noisily and rasped, "Master? Is that you?"

We glanced at each other, and then I cleared my throat and spoke. "Uh… yes, it is I. Have you been doing your tasks, my servant?"

"You have assigned me no tasks, master. But is it not time for the sewer beast to feed again? I shall release him if you wish it." it rumbled.

"Er… yes, I do wish it. Open the doors," I commanded.

"You have not yet activated my motor functions, master. I need the stone," replied the golem.

_Geez, and you couldn't have told me this __before__ you offered to open the doors?_ I thought. "I seem to have mislaid the stone, my servant. Do you know where it is?" I asked aloud.

"Did you not leave it on the table in Rielev's room, my master?"

_Another reason to find Rielev._ "Ah, yes. How could I forget? I will retrieve the stone and return."

"As you wish, master. I shall return to my rest," sighed the golem, the light behind its eyes going out.

We left the room, searching for Rielev. Eventually, after killing a few more goblins, we entered a room containing another glass tube. However, the creature within this tube still stirred, and as we entered, it asked in a tortured voice, "Who goes there? Servants of the master?"

"Not exactly," I replied. "Who are you, and why are you in this tube?"

"It is difficult to remember…" he rasped. "I was Rielev… dead, I think."

_At last, the elusive Rielev! Which means…_ "Minsc, check that table for the activation stone," I directed, before returning my attention to Rielev. "But why are you in the jar?" I repeated.

"I was sick… an incurable disease. The Master put me in here, so he could keep me alive until a cure was found… but now he has forgotten me, and I am left to undeath forever."

"Who is this master?"

"He was… my friend… cast out, and one of us no longer. Since then, he has been looking for a way to regain what he lost… he thinks he has found that way, through you."

I could make no sense of this; nor could any of the others. I moved on. "Do you wish release from this non-death?"

Rielev's tortured voice grew more frantic. "Release… yes… Master! I no longer wish to come back! Let me go, into the oblivion that has been denied to me!"

"Calmly, friend," I admonished. "How do I go about releasing you?"

"In the back of the tube… there are crystals which power it. Simply slide them out of the slot, and I will be free…"

I did as he directed, and his movement ceased. He was dead… and a peaceful expression crossed those tortured features.

"He… he's dead now?" Imoen, silent for the entire exchange, spoke up. "That poor creature… how many other people has that bastard done this to? But… death… death is…" She trailed off.

I shrugged. "Death isn't always a scary thing, I guess. I would not want to live like that. Would you, Imoen? Or any of you?" I turned to Minsc and Jaheira, but Jaheira, performing the Druid death rites for Rielev, did not answer, and Minsc was closely examining the golem's activation stone.

Imoen, however, had other things on her mind. "Death is… pretty. Why do I think that? What has he… what is this place doing to me? Oh, Taratiel… we've got to get out of here. Soon."

I shushed her. "I know, but we can't go anywhere if we don't keep moving. Come on."

She sighed and pulled herself together. "I know… let's go."

We returned to the golem's room, gave it the activation stone, and then followed it to one of the magically locked doors we'd seen around the place, where it waved its hand, which I noticed for the first time was emblazoned with runes, over the lock, opening the door. The revealed room contained a stench like that of a thousand privies, each containing the leavings of an entire tribe of goblins, a small family of ogres, and a dragon or two. This was partly due to the large opening to the sewers in the center of the room, but mainly due to the large, angry otyugh over on the other side. It roared and lumbered towards us. Wow. Big. And angry. And smelly, too. And big. I mentioned that, right? Huge. Anyway, we made short work of it, which did not lessen its hugeness in any way. Although it probably took care of the anger issues. The stench, however, actually intensified to about 3000-privy strength.

The otyugh had some kind of strange key on its body, which we took, and then we entered a door to the north. It led into what appeared to be a bedroom, although who would put a bedroom by a sewer room we didn't know or understand. As we entered, we all had a feeling of imminent danger, as of eyes at our backs. Carefully, we poked around. We found two more of those strange keys, and also one of our things that we had thought stolen and sold, the enchanted Helm of Balduran, Founder of Baldur's Gate. Apparently, our captor collects… trophies. Might be handy to remember that later.

A/N: OK, to keep the chapters shorter, I'll end it here. Please R&R, and if you feel like I'm trying to teach an old dog a new trick, stick around till Chapter 9 or so and tell me how you feel then. Until next time!

Next: Damsels in distress. Non-damsels in distress. People lost. People found. All this and more on The Tale of Taratiel… Next!


End file.
